


The Prince & Mercutio - I won't let you

by SosearchingRomeo (Breakingthestandards)



Category: Romeo And Juliet - All Media Types, Romeo e Giulietta - Ama e Cambia il Mondo, Romeo et Juliette - Presgurvic
Genre: M/M, Mercutio x anyone you want basically, Other, Relationships Implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-26 21:23:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13866288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Breakingthestandards/pseuds/SosearchingRomeo
Summary: Prompt fill, Request: @shadowofthemoth on Tumblr -  “I won’t let you” - the Prince.AU Note: I took Italian Musical Mercutio and Prince as my inspiration for this one. Hinted at several mxm relationships. Filled in 2018.





	The Prince & Mercutio - I won't let you

  
“I am sorry, but this is the way it is.” 

The ruler of Verona looked at the broken figure of a boy in front of him. The youth, shoulders slumped and eyes cast at the floor, stood with his back turned to him, as if facing him was too much for him right now.  _A disgrace,_  the Prince thought _, is that what he made himself?_  

He swallowed hard, thinking that there were a million of options to save themselves out of this situation, but that the blonde in front of him was way too stubborn to listen to them let alone act on his advice.  _Disgrace,_  he mused again silently, while his dark eyes burned into the back of the boy,  _or is it what I made of myself?_

“You think you can tell me how it is?” His low voice sounded, the throne room around them seemed to tremble with the deep tembre of his voice. “You dare to tell me what will happen? Do you forgot your place, young mister?” 

The boy finally whipped his head around. His blonde curls danced around his frame, obscuring his eyes one moment only to reveal deeply shaken orbs the next. The boy’s adams apple bobbed as he swallowed, his eyes glistening over with unshed tears while he gritted his teeth in an attempt to harness himself against his uncle’s words. 

“I dare,” he then said, resolutely, “and I have.” It came out fiercely, fiercer than he actually felt. His left hand pointed at the floor, a gesture of determination. “And I am leaving.” 

“Leaving? Now?” His uncle’s voice was once again loudly filling the otherwise empty room. The only ones who could overhear where the guards, but they were used to hear the thunder of the Prince’s voice. “When we’re in the  spur of the moment? We’re in the heat of the battle and you want to scamper like a little dog with your tail between your legs?” 

The prince’s eyes were wide with disbelief. He reached out a hand to his nephew, as if the gesture alone could cross the distance between them, but his body trembled and the motion suddenly wasn’t as imposing as he had intended for it to be. “Like a dog,” he repeated himself, “A dirty, low Montague dog.”  

At the words, Mercutio’s eyes hardened and his lips were pressed into a thin line. It was as if he had made up his mind, yet he said nothing in return. 

“Is that what they taught you?” His uncle said, voice trembling now instead of his hand, which he had retracted and now hung limply by his side. “Is that what your Montague friends taught you? To do evil and then flee?” 

“They don’t do evil and then flee,” Mercutio suddenly spat in their defence, “ _not them_.” 

“Oh?” The Prince raised a brow, feeling he finally had some leverage over the boy in front of him, and couldn’t suppress a nasty grin to curl the corners of his lips. “And what about your Romeo?” 

“What about Romeo?”  Their eyes locked and both were trapped in a battle of dirty glaring. Anger was eminent in both their eyes, whether by the feeling of betrayal or by the feeling of hopelessness – or a combination of both. 

Deciding to give a final push to make his nephew topple and his resolve crumble, the Prince delivered the final blow. “He married the Capulet girl behind all of our backs.” His words were deliberately slow, knowing it must be like a knife carving its way into his nephew’s chest. 

“He did it for love,” Mercutio retorted, though his voice cracked at the end of the sentence. If hatred had been in his eyes, or any form of anger at all, it now solved and his eyes cleared.  

“Exactly,” the Prince held out his hand for his nephew again. This time there was less trembling. “Will you please decide to stay with me?” 

But the boy shook his head, his golden locks dangling chaotically around his frame while he stumbled backwards and away from the Prince. “I can’t do… I was wounded, mortally.” 

“Emotionally,” his uncle said with a raised voice. 

“That too,” Mercutio cut him short, silencing him. For a moment the two looked at each other. Mercutio was already near the door, ready to bolt. His uncle had hardly moved away from the throne on which he ruled. “I’m sorry uncle,” he started. 

“Save it,” his uncle shook his head and lowered his eyes to the floor. “You disgraced me. Time after time after time,” here he looked up again, “But I never stopped loving you. I never gave up hope that one day you would be a worthy successor. Now you are grown, and you step into the arms of other men,” his lips curled in disdain, knowing the amount of effort he had done to keep these rumours of his nephew’s behaviour away from the ears of the church or the king, “you stepped into a knife to defend your special friends. I am obliged to kill you-“ 

“And you won’t have to,” his nephew interjected, “that’s why I am going.” 

“Wait! Mercutio, we can think of another way. I know my promise to the people, but I haven’t said I would keep it. I can break it for you. You don’t have to be-” but Mercutio was not listening any longer. The boy had spun on his heels and determinedly made his way to the doors which he flung open and into the faces of the guards outside. They hardly saw who left, with the doors catching them by surprise and the swiftness with which the boy made a run for it. 

“-killed.” The Prince finished with a sigh. He watched the now empty hall in front of him for a moment longer, then retreated to his throne, sat down with a heavy sigh and rested his head in his hand. He knew he had a lot on his plate. But although Verona had need of him, Mercutio would always be his number one priority. He knew he had to make sure he found out where his nephew had gone to. Then he would have to think of a plan to lure him back to Verona with him. 

There was no time to chase him now. Mercutio was fast and nimble. He knew his way around every corner and shady part of the city. Besides, the Lord and Ladies of both the feuding families were waiting for him to play judge, now that Romeo had taken up arms against Tybalt – even if the Capulet had hurt his nephew gravely. These were matters that could not wait. He needed the families influence. He needed the power their support gave him. 

“You think you can just go and escape this feud, nephew? You think you can just run away and pretend to be dead?” The Prince brought his hand up, in front of his face, and watched as he slowly squeezed his fingers together, then formed a fist as he whispered, “I won’t let you.“


End file.
